


The Bonds That Build Us And Break Us

by HowsItGoingToEnd



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Anakin Skywalker Has Issues, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, From sweet to sad, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi is Trying, Padawan Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon's teapot is kind of a character, Young Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:20:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29733786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HowsItGoingToEnd/pseuds/HowsItGoingToEnd
Summary: It took an evening for their bond to spark into existence, years to cement it, and a single instant to destroy it.Two nights define the beginning and the beginning of the end for Anakin and Obi-Wan.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 34





	1. The Beginning

At three years old, Obi-Wan Kenobi was taken into the The Jedi Order.

In a blink, gone was the potential of a simple future on Stewjohn, replaced with the unending uphill climb of a Jedi existence. He remembered very little of his life before he stepped into the Temple, only the faintest recollections of rolling green hills and the smell of someone's floral perfume. Rarely had he considered how things could have gone differently. When he had, it was always with the utmost confidence that whatever had awaited him there would not have suited him. There was no use in thinking otherwise.

He spent his entire childhood dedicated to the singular goal of becoming a knight, following every rule, completing every requested task. He was not a natural by any means. He was forever getting by on grit and pure effort rather than talent, always battling his own distraction. Still, there was no metric he did not exceed with sheer determination. Overlooked by masters time and again, he did not stop until he was chosen. It was this intensity alone that had Qui-Gon bypass him the first time, something he had not told him until he was much older. By then, he was mature enough to understand that one could in fact have too much to prove.

For the next thirteen years, he served as an exceptionally dedicated padawan. He grew used to trailing behind one of the most unpredictable and yet most honorable men that the Order had to offer. When it came to risk, Qui-Gon’s calculus never seemed to account for Obi-Wan’s youth or his inexperience. His master didn’t deem a thing beyond Obi-Wan’s capacity to endure and, in all that time, he never once left his apprentice behind. He would quicker tend to his wounds than deny him an opportunity to learn. There was a lot of tending, but Obi-Wan didn’t regret a single scar.

They did not always agree. In fact, Obi-Wan often found himself deep in debate with his master on long jaunts through hyperspace. Their opposition even began to bleed dangerously into moments when tensions were high and stakes higher. Obi-Wan was conciliatory by nature, diplomatic, but it all seemed to fail him in that arena, especially as he grew older and more confident. It drove a wedge between them at times but something always seemed to force them back together before it was too late. And Obi-Wan remained safe in the sure knowledge that when he reached for him, Qui-Gon would never fail to reach back. Their relationship was not without its challenges, but it was deep, hard-earned, secure.

Days became weeks and weeks became years. Missions ran together, moments blurring into a life, as the time ticked away both insufferably slowly and unfathomably quickly. Qui-Gon's hair streaked with gray. Obi-Wan slowly closed their height difference and teased him that it wouldn't be long before he managed it. He never would. At barely twenty-five, with skills made more for blocking blaster bolts than swordplay, he looked evil itself in the face and _cut it in half_. Mere moments after, he held the only man who had ever truly believed in him in his arms and watched the light leave his eyes forever. He let him go into the Cosmic Force with a solemn vow that would change everything.

It didn't matter that Obi-Wan hadn't been _ready_ to let him go, of course. The Jedi way would have none of that. A little over a week later, he became a knight and someone’s master in a single breath. Despite Qui-Gon's prior insistence that he was ready, he never took his Trials. Apparently, eradicating a massive threat to the balance was considered enough; who would have thought?

Unorthodox as every bit of his transition was, The Council allowed it. Yoda had appraised him critically as he made his way out of the chamber, as if wondering whether he really had any idea what he was getting himself into, but said nothing. The Force then handed him a foolishly brave little boy with striking blue eyes and Qui-Gon’s uncanny tendency to find trouble wherever it may lurk. And now, somehow, he had to move both of them forward.

But first, he needed to cut his hair.

He stood in front of the fresher mirror in the apartment he supposed was now his for the first time since leaving for Naboo, tears streaming down his face. The weight of grief was heavy, that of responsibility even heavier. The last two weeks had been a blur of travel and ceremonies and trying to develop some kind of relationship with Anakin. He just needed some _time_ , a few days at least, to find some equilibrium.

Instead, The Council had sent him home with the details of his first assignment: the two of them were to report to Alderaan in the morning. It was a simple mission, a completely unnecessary security detail for Bail Organa during a routine diplomatic session. It was clearly meant to be a gentle nudge into their new roles. Only days before, he would have thought something so easy to be a punishment. But nothing felt easy when he couldn’t _breathe_.

Obi-Wan turned his head at an awkward angle and raised the scissors. This wasn't how the ritual was meant to be done but no one had offered him an alternative. Unable to see properly, he pinched the braid and pulled it taut, positioning the scissors flush with his scalp. He hesitated, hands trembling.

'You were supposed to be here, Master. You were supposed to do this for me, with me.'

Forcing down a bitter sense of loss, he cut the braid off in one swift motion. He followed its path in his reflection as it slipped down his shoulder and landed unceremoniously on the floor. He then touched at the vacant patch behind his ear, feeling distinctly off-balance. This was meant to be a massive accomplishment, a personal victory. Instead, he just felt empty.

He made a few halfhearted attempts to even his hair before he surrendered. It would grow back. And if it didn't, what did it matter? He had so much more to worry about. He set the scissors down, catching another glimpse of the braid puddled on the tile. He stooped to pick it up and carefully unraveled the red and yellow ties from it, recalling the tenderness with which they had been added in the first place. He rolled them between his anxious fingers absentmindedly and tried to draw some strength from all that his master had given him.

'What now? What was the final lesson? What am I supposed to _do_?'

He crumpled over the sink. What had he been _thinking_? Why had he promised that he would take on the boy? He couldn’t possibly be what Anakin needed. He wasn’t even sure if he could be what _he_ needed right now. He couldn’t do this. He couldn't _do_ this.

“Master?” Anakin’s voice was small, tentative, just outside the fresher door. It snapped Obi-Wan out of his thoughts, reminding him that he had no time for self-doubt. He frantically turned on the tap and splashed his cheeks, scrubbing with his hands. When he looked back at himself, he could almost pass for having simply vigorously washed his face.

“Yes, Anakin?” Obi-Wan fished the mess of hair and fabric out of the sink and deposited it in the waste bin. A pang of regret hit him and, on second thought, he quickly reclaimed the damp ties. He studied them for a moment and hastily knotted them around his wrist. He'd decide what to do with them later.

He took one last glance in the mirror and squared his shoulders. He then cleared his throat, hoping he would prove convincing enough, and pressed the button to open the door. There stood the boy whose future was now in his rather incapable hands, smiling up at him.

“You cut your hair,” Anakin observed as he sought out his master's hand. Obi-Wan tucked the makeshift bracelet up into the sleeve of his tunic, hiding it, before allowing him to latch onto his fingers. The boy squeezed a little too tightly and tugged insistently on his arm.

“I did. Are you taking me somewhere?”

“I made tea,” he announced.

“What?” Obi-Wan blinked several times, confused. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting but that was certainly not it. “Oh. That’s nice.” He allowed himself to be lead into the kitchen, where a single cup of dark tea was waiting on the counter top. Qui-Gon’s teapot rested beside it, droplets of condensation dribbling down the sides as if it too had been crying. “Just the one?” Obi-Wan raised a perplexed eyebrow at his padawan. “Were you planning on sharing with me? Or were you just wanting to show off your impeccable tea preparation skills?”

“Oh no, it’s not for me. I made it for you.” Anakin picked it up and presented it to him carefully with both hands, trying hard to refrain from sloshing any over the edges. Obi-Wan took it, watched the tiny lavender flowers drifting about. He instinctively breathed deeply of the calming steam rising from its surface.

“You did? Thank you.” Obi-Wan sipped from it cautiously only to find it shockingly pleasant. He wondered what other things Anakin might know how to do. All that they had explored so far was his fascination with every button and gizmo in the apartment. Obi-Wan had pleaded with him not to take anything apart and very much hoped his agreement had been genuine. “It's perfect, Anakin,” he praised, forcing a smile for him. “But may I ask why?”

“My mother always says that tea makes broken hearts better.”

Obi-Wan stilled mid-sip. “Is that so?”

“Yes.” Anakin looked up at him, shrugging a shoulder. “I don’t know much about broken hearts. Mom says they’re what happens when you love someone very much, but you can’t see or touch them anymore. She says that they cause you to cry and make your chest hurt, and that they can take a really long time to heal. Sometimes they never do.”

“That’s...quite astute. Your mother is a very wise woman.”

“Master Qui-Gon isn’t here,” Anakin continued, his tone softer, sad, respectful. “We can’t see him or touch him anymore. And Master’s heart is broken.” Obi-Wan’s breath hitched painfully at that. He had thought he was hiding well, attempting to process all that had happened when Anakin was out of sight. And yet, he still knew.

'Is this some of what you sensed in him, Master? You thought the galaxy needed him, but...did you know about this part? Did you think that maybe I needed him too?'

“So is it true,” Anakin asked, practically vibrating with curious energy. “Does it work? Is it better?” Obi-Wan’s heart hammered in his ears as he set the cup down shakily on the counter top. He knelt and, not trusting himself to look at him, pulled Anakin tightly to his chest. “Master?”

Obi-Wan knew the role of the Jedi master, knew that it was his job to guide Anakin to knighthood as he had been guided. He was meant to repeat lessons with infinite patience, to pick him up when he fell, to be his ultimate safe place until the day he was to set him free. It was up to him to pass on the cumulative knowledge of all the masters in his lineage, to teach Anakin everything he needed to know.

And yet, in that moment, he couldn’t help feeling that Anakin might have an awful lot to teach him in return.

“Yes, Anakin. It’s better,” Obi-Wan managed, but he did not let him go. Anakin’s chin found his shoulder and, though he didn't return the embrace, he did settle comfortably into it. They remained there in content silence, their breathing and heartbeats falling into sync, as something wonderful and warm hovered between them. It felt like home. It felt like hope.

Hours later, Obi-Wan lay awake, staring up at the ceiling. Anakin, unsettled by yet another change in environment, had asked that he stay and Obi-Wan had made a show of conceding. In reality, it was a gracious acceptance. Anakin's offer saved him having to sleep in Qui-Gon's room, in his bed, something he felt entirely unready for. The single bed he'd had for years was cramped, leaving them pressed together, but Obi-Wan welcomed the familiar space and Anakin's presence. 

He had to sleep. He closed his eyes, focusing on the pattern of his padawan's even breathing, and tried to calm his mind. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me,” he murmured under his breath. “I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.” He repeated the mantra at least a dozen times before he felt himself begin to slip.

The vision was sudden and unexpected, a flood of color and light. He saw Qui-Gon sitting seiza at the low table in the corner of the living room, a cup of jasmine tea before him. His eyes were shut and his hands rested in his lap, a tranquil smile on his face, as the sun cascaded down on him from the picture window. The teapot Anakin had used that evening sat warm and steaming, its delicate floral pattern seeming to almost glow in the sunlight. He took a deep, long breath that Obi-Wan couldn’t help but to mimic, as he had done so many times in the past.

' **My boy,** ' His master's voice echoed inside his head, though his lips did not move. ' **My dear boy. I know how you hurt. But you must let go, Obi-Wan. You must move forward. You must let go.** '

They exhaled in time and the miserable tightness in Obi-Wan's chest released him. The ties were warm on his wrist. He felt nothing but peace.

When Obi-Wan opened his eyes again, daybreak was filtering in through the curtains. The room was quiet save for the sound of traffic flying past the window. Anakin was curled tightly against his side, drooling on his tunic. He sighed and carded his fingers affectionately through the boy's hair, willing himself to start the day. The heaviness in his chest had returned, though it felt different now. The grief was muted, replaced with the sense that there was something he must do.

' **You must move forward. You must let go.** '

With sudden, striking clarity, Obi-Wan removed the yellow tie from his wrist. He reached out and gently gathered a chunk of Anakin's hair, just behind his right ear. Anakin stirred at the touch, whining sleepily. “Master? Is it morning? What are you doing?”

“Shh, something very important. Can you be still for me?” Anakin complied, shutting his eyes again trustingly. Obi-Wan readjusted the short strands between his fingers and gingerly braided them the best he could, affixing the tie at the end. Anakin raised his hand to feel at the spot, realization dawning on him. He beamed brilliantly and Obi-Wan smiled back at him.

It felt like home. It felt like hope. And, for the first time, Obi-Wan thought he might be able to do this after all.


	2. The Beginning of The End

The door slid open without so much as a knock. Obi-Wan startled at his desk, turning to see Anakin blowing through the frame. A cloud of negative energy flooded in with him and, if Obi-Wan didn't know better, he'd have sworn that the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. “Anakin? What-”

“You lied to me.” Anakin’s voice was dark, cold, hateful.

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan got to his feet as the door closed, sealing them together in his quarters. Anakin folded his arms over his chest, his face set in a deep frown. He proceeded to tick off Obi-Wan's indiscretions on his fingers. 

“First, you faked your own _death_ and kept it from me. Then, you’ve been pulling missions from the 501st, keeping intel off of my radar, redirecting things to the 212th. And now I find out that your “special mission” that you needed my ship for was to take on Maul. On Mandalore. By _yourself_.”

Obi-Wan’s stomach dropped to his feet. “Who told you?” 

He didn't know why he asked. He already knew that it was Cody, had to be Cody. He'd been the only one to know. The 212th commander had caught his general alone in the landing bay at two in the morning, fighting with The Twilight. Already dressed like a bounty hunter, Obi-Wan had scared the man so badly that he'd nearly shot him.

Under any other circumstances, Obi-Wan surely would have come up with a viable excuse. Instead, he had elected to put his confidence in one of the most reliable men he'd ever known. He'd left out the bit about coming to Satine's rescue and told him the rest of his plan. Logically, he knew that he was about to do something dangerous; _someone_ needed to know where he was. Unlike Anakin, he could have faith in Cody not to follow him. 

What he could not expect from him was not to worry about him. Clearly, that had gotten the best of his friend somewhere in it all. He must've held his tongue until Obi-Wan returned but perhaps he'd been unable to continue after realizing that his homecoming was not a happy one. Obi-Wan had tried to seem as much himself as possible in the countless interactions that had found him between the landing bay and his quarters. He thought he'd been convincing enough but there was no fooling Cody.

“Thanks for the confirmation,” Anakin growled. “What does it matter? I _know_.”

Obi-Wan took a step towards him, hand outstretched. “Anakin, quiet your mind-” 

“ _No_!” Anakin threw his hands up and Obi-Wan dropped his. “I can’t trust you anymore! I can’t trust anyone! I've always wondered how many times The Council has lied to me! How many of those lies were _yours_?!”

If Anakin hadn't been so caught up in his own emotional turmoil, he would have felt how his words had _hurt_. Obi-Wan looked up at him, wounded. “I want you to say that again,” he dared, the soft tremble in his voice betraying him.

“Say what,” Anakin challenged back, fists clenched. There was something in him now that Obi-Wan had never felt before. And it _scared_ him. Before that moment, he would’ve told you that he could pick Anakin’s signature out of millions without a second thought; all he’d have to do was close his eyes and reach. Even with a galaxy between them, he could tell you if he was tired, if he was happy, if he needed help. He knew his padawan, his brother, his best friend as well as he knew himself. Who was _this_?

“That you don't trust me,” Obi-Wan forced out. Even saying it himself was painful. “I want you to look me in the eyes and tell me that you _don't trust me_ , Anakin.”

Anakin's rage seemed to waver for a moment at the pain in his master's voice, but he steeled it almost immediately. “I'm pretty sure you heard me the first time.”

“I was really hoping that I hadn’t.” Anakin didn't respond, and Obi-Wan couldn't stand how their bond strained under the weight of conflict. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

“You _lied_ to me,” Anakin repeated venomously.

Obi-Wan shook his head in denial. “I didn't! I...I just didn't tell you everything. I couldn't-”

“A lie of omission then! What's the difference?! What did Satine call you, 'a collection of half-truths and hyperbole'?! I'm pretty sure she was right!”

“That isn't _fair_ ,” Obi-Wan all but shouted, and even Anakin seemed taken aback by his tone. 

But he couldn’t help it. He was in pieces. He’d spent the last 48 hours sleepless, hemorrhaging inside, and all he’d wanted was someone to take away his datapad and let him _grieve_. For one brief, hopeful moment, he’d been so relieved to see Anakin darkening his doorstep. He would never be able to hide his suffering from him. And he didn’t _want_ to. He wanted Anakin to give him permission to hurt and maybe, just maybe, let him lean on him until the world turned right side up again. 

Instead, they were doing this. His heart was pounding in his chest and every beat was agony. It took everything he had not to give in to the tears burning behind his eyes. His mantra had stopped working the second Anakin had spoken Satine’s name.

‘He doesn’t know,’ he reminded himself. ‘He doesn’t know she’s gone because you’ve kept that from him too. He’s hurt and he’s lashing out at you but he has no idea that he just crossed the line. He has no idea where it even is.’ He took a deep breath and released it, letting that go into the Force.

“Anakin, don’t you ever consider that I do these things for a reason? Do you really think that I relish keeping you in the dark? It’s not easy for me either.” Anakin scoffed bitterly. “Don’t act like that. I have never been anything but honest with you when I could. I've risked my life, time and again, to protect you-”

Anakin’s anger suddenly swelled until it filled the room. The walls seemed to pulse and a glass on the desk groaned but didn’t fracture. Obi-Wan looked to it and back to Anakin again, shocked, concerned.

“Because you made some stupid promise! Master Qui-Gon was the one who actually wanted me! You just got caught holding the bag!” Obi-Wan outwardly flinched at that, the prior moment forgotten.

“I sure did, _Padawan_.” Anakin scowled at him, furious. These days, they only used the old titles in affectionate jest. But that had been intended to make him feel small, to remind him of his place. An unusually spiteful move for his master, but Anakin did suppose he’d been the one to start swinging. It wasn’t fair to expect Obi-Wan to pull his punches. “You know, this is starting to sound a whole lot less like me not wanting you and a whole lot more like _you_ not wanting _me_.”

“And if it is?”

“Tell me.” Obi-Wan buried a hand in his own hair in frustration. “This is a long time coming, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.”

They stood at an impasse and stared each other down. It felt like hours, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before Obi-Wan cracked, his shoulders falling. “You know what? You're right. He’s the one who saw something in you and I didn’t. The reasons why are irrelevant. Maybe he would have been better for you. We'll never know that and I'm sorry. I’m _sorry_ , but I'm what’s left of him. I'm what you have.”

“There’s no point in being sorry. What’s done cannot be undone. How many times have you said that to me?” Anakin shook his head in dismay. “It doesn’t change that you could never take me as I was.”

Something snapped in Obi-Wan. “You’re _wrong_ ,” he argued. “You're so incredibly wrong. I have. I may be the only one who has.” 

“You think I'm a risk, just like the rest of The Council! You've tried to change me-”

“I've tried to _teach_ you,” he countered. “I've tried to help you, keep you safe. You're powerful, Anakin, but power can be dangerous. And the person most in danger has always been _you_.” It may have been Anakin who pushed them to this moment, but Obi-Wan was suddenly hyper aware of how these words truly needed to be said. Perhaps they’d been building up for years. They were pouring out of him now, all the things he’d thought he’d let go. 

‘Oh, Master,’ he thought sadly. ‘What would you think if you could see me now? You would be so disappointed in me. In both of us.’

No matter. The dam was broken and there was no stopping now. If they were going to go after each other, it may as well be all at once. Anakin was angry because Obi-Wan had lied to him. Now, he would tell him nothing but the truth.

“I took you on because I made a promise, true, but I haven’t stayed on this path because of it. Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to give up? I had _no experience_ , Anakin. You wanted Master Qui-Gon’s wisdom? You already have it because I was parroting it. I had none of my own to offer. The Council had no faith in me and cautious optimism at best in you. Your sheer existence broke rules and it was always a battle to get you what you needed. Through all of it, the only person I had on my side was you and you were a child with no training who fought me at every turn. There was no blueprint for us. Do you know how many nights I laid awake, wondering if I was doing right by you? Do you know how many times I asked the Force why, in all its infinite wisdom, it put us together? Do you think I _ever_ got an answer?!”

Anakin swallowed hard but didn’t respond. His hands had loosened, limp at his sides. His gloved fingers twitched, something in the mechanics misfiring as they sometimes did when he got particularly upset. The anger was wispy, but there was an edge of betrayal that was just as sharp as it had been when he arrived. His eyes were lowered, trained on some point beyond Obi-Wan, unreadable.

“I didn’t keep at it because of some deathbed promise I felt bound to. That would never have been enough. I did it because you mattered to me. I did it because you deserved a master who believed in you, not because of some prophecy in the holochrons but because he knew _you_ , all of you, and all the incredible things that you could be. You may have been chosen by the galaxy once, by Qui-Gon once, but I chose you every day for _eleven years_.”

Anakin was visibly shaking. Obi-Wan wasn't sure exactly why. He didn't feel the rage from him anymore, only something blank and empty. His own mind was too clouded to see clearly, his heart too heavy. The weight he'd been carrying for the last decade was suddenly crushing him. 

“You seem to idolize my master but, from your place, that is an easy thing to do. The difference between us is that I knew him, _really_ knew him, in all his greatness and all his ineptitude. I know what it felt like to disagree with the very fiber of some of the things he held most dear. I respected him anyway. I _trusted_ him anyway because I knew that, no matter where we stood, he always had my best interests at heart. After all we've been through together, I sincerely hoped I would have earned the same from you.”

“You don't understand.” Anakin sounded lost, shattered. “You just...you don’t _understand_ , Obi-Wan.”

“I imagine you’re right,” Obi-Wan conceded. “And neither do you. But you will. Because one day in the not so distant future, you will find yourself at odds with Ahsoka.”

That made him lift his head. Obi-Wan captured his gaze and held it as something familiar flashed in Anakin’s eyes. Obi-Wan knew that feeling well, the overwhelming surge of protectiveness that had hit him at the mere sound of her name. One does not threaten a padawan while the master still breathes.

“I know you think that will never happen, but it will. You’ll shield her from things she could not possibly be ready to comprehend - perhaps you already have - and she won’t understand why. It will not be because you don’t trust her. It will not be because you want to deceive her. And it certainly will not be because you don’t ache to have her beside you. It will be because you _love_ her. And on that day, I'll be there to help you through. I’ll let you decide why that might be.”

Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating and not at all peaceful. It was an uneasy détente in which nothing seemed resolved. Obi-Wan's senses, honed for the battlefield, told him to remain wary of the second wave. And yet, nothing came.

“Are you finished?” Anakin’s voice had lost its sharpness but he was guarded now, dangerously quiet. Obi-Wan realized he was shaking too, his nails dug deep into his own palms. He forcibly released them. He really thought he would feel better after all of that. He didn’t.

“Yes,” he sighed. “Yes, I’m finished.” He dropped to sit on his bed, brutally exhausted. Moments later, the surface sunk as Anakin sat stiffly beside him. Their shoulders brushed briefly, and the knot in Obi-Wan’s chest unraveled just a little. “Are you?”

“Almost.” Anakin inhaled deeply, the breath rattling. Exactly seven counts passed before he released it. “Tell me that this was the last time.”

Obi-Wan looked over at him, crushed. He had thought for a moment that they had come out on the other side of their ordeal. Only then did he realize that they actually stood on the precipice, their bond pushed to the very verge of breaking.

“Tell me that you'll never lie to me again.” 

“Anakin-” Obi-Wan reached for him in the Force. He let himself relish in finding him there, forever open, the one constant in his life that had survived peace, war, and everything in between. He tried to commit that feeling to memory, knowing full well the consequences of what he had to do. 'I love you, Anakin. I love you, I love you, I love you.'

“Promise me, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan braced himself and set fire to what was left of Anakin's trust. “You know that I can’t do that,” he whispered.

The glass on the desk suddenly exploded into razor-sharp fragments. The bond seemed to follow in kind. Anakin shoved him away violently, descending fully into his pain and his anger, locking him out. It ripped the air from Obi-Wan’s lungs and he could say nothing as Anakin vanished from beside him. He tore open the door without touching the panel and stormed out of the room. 

Obi-Wan didn’t know how long he stayed there, unmoving, staring into nothingness. Eventually, he got up to gather the shards of glass and toss them in the waste bin, feeling them prick and cut his fingers despite how carefully he’d handled them. He fell into his chair, spending a few moments watching his blood bubble to the surface of his skin before shaking himself of the morbidity and wiping them on his pants.

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk, extracting the simple wooden box that housed Qui-Gon’s teapot and a pair of teacups. He ran his fingers over the pot reverently as he removed it, feeling the coolness of the ceramic and the curves of the tiny cherry blossoms pressed into the surface. He emptied his canteen into it and set it to warm on the nearby hot plate, waiting until steam rose from the spout.

Blinking back tears, he prepared himself a cup of tea and nursed his broken heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there, all you lovely readers! I'm a long-time reader on this site and an obsessive writer who is usually too self-conscious to post. I've set a personal goal to change that. My goal for this month was to actually finish something and be brave enough to post it, so here it is! I hope everyone enjoyed it, and I would love your feedback!


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